


Crawly Things in the Night

by ticknart



Category: Daria (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-12 02:35:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11152422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ticknart/pseuds/ticknart
Summary: Daria's having trouble sleeping during her first semester at Raft, so she spends time watching the newly restored JaneCam





	Crawly Things in the Night

> From: “The Only Jane”  
>  To: “JaneCam Mailing List”  
>  Sent: Monday 10/2/2000  
>  3:02 AM Subject: JaneCam LIVES!
> 
> Dearest Friends (and others),
> 
> From the ashes, like the phoenix of old, JaneCam rises again!
> 
> With a new webcam and a domain all its own, this’ll be the best JaneCam until the next version hits the web, after my first million.
> 
> Until that time comes, tell your friends, and other people you’ve met at your fancy colleges, to come, visit, click, watch, enjoy, and pay me money.
> 
> After all, you’re my friends and if I can’t exploit you and your connections to people I never have to, or want to, meet, what good are you?
> 
> Jane Lane Founder and CEO of the soon to be most popular site on the web! http://www.janecam.org

Daria Morgendorffer, her face illuminated by her computer monitor, reread the e-mail from her friend Jane Lane. Jane sent it a little after three in the morning. Daria looked at the computer’s clock in the lower right corner of the screen. It was 3:18 now. Fifteen minutes ago.

She lifted her glasses, perched them on the top of her head, and rubbed her eyes. 3:20 and she was still awake.

She’d slept well when she first got to Raft. Everything was so fresh, oddly exciting. No family, no Mom, no Dad, and especially no Quinn. Sure, they had learned to get along with each other and sort of appreciate the others quirks, but Daria had wanted a life without Quinn since she was three. And life without her sister was everything she had imagined. Everything was made out of chocolate, cotton candy, pizza, and beef jerky, and the air constantly smelled of baking gingerbread all because her family was a seven hour drive away.

Peace at last. Peace at last. Thank God almighty, peace at last.

Even having an exercise crazy roommate, who woke up each morning before the sun to stretch while making odd little grunting sounds before heading out on her morning run, couldn’t take away the elation of not being near her family. Life was good. Well, maybe not “good,” but it was better than Lawndale by a degree or two, for the most part.

About four weeks after getting to Raft, she found herself having trouble sleeping. At first, it was just hard to fall asleep. Her brain raced with events from the day and random thoughts. When she fell asleep, she had slept hard and all the way until her roommate Judy’s alarm went off. Soon after that, though, she started waking up before the early alarm. Then her sleep got lighter and lighter – any creak from the ceiling would wake her up, her heart racing. Now she either slept very little or not at all. So far her school work hadn’t been affected, but that probably wouldn’t last much longer, especially when midterms came around.

Daria clicked on the link at the bottom of Jane’s e-mail. Her web browser popped up opening the website. JaneCam was back. The front page showed her the logo – a picture of a webcam with the word JaneCam in the lens, bulging in the center, not Jane’s best work – and gave her the choice to go to the free cam or the pay cam.

She clicked on the free cam link.

A white page came up with a small rectangle in the middle. Suddenly, there was Jane’s room. The bed sat directly across from the camera. After a few seconds of the bed, the image shifted and part of Jane appeared. Her ear? Daria wasn’t sure.

She counted. At five the image shifted to the bed again.

She started counting again. At five, ten, twenty, still the bed. At thirty, Jane crossed in front of her bed only wearing a t-shirt.

“Guess it helps that you’re over eighteen this time,” Daria muttered, hoping not to wake Judy. “It’ll probably last longer this time because if it, too.”

A little over a year ago Jane had set up a webcam in her room to bring herself to the world. It was only viewed something like eight times, three of them by Daria. It all ended with Tom, Jane’s boyfriend at the time, did a little dance. When he found out about the camera, and that it was pointed at his shaking butt, he freaked out and, to end the fight, Jane took a pair of scissors to the cable. JaneCam was over forever.

At least that’s what Daria thought. She supposed that since Jane had no boyfriend she had nothing to worry about in that department. And if Jane did get a boyfriend, well, then the web show would get more exciting. Potentially a lot more exciting.

Daria just stared at the screen. After a few minutes, Jane reappeared. She crossed back and forth, doing who knows what, before hitting the lights. Her room didn’t go completely dark though. Street light streamed in through Jane’s window leaving enough so Daria could watch Jane climb into bed and at the next refresh she had the covers pulled up.

“‘Night, Jane,” whispered Daria.

She didn’t leave her computer, though. She just shrank the window with JaneCam on it and left it in the upper right corner of her monitor then opened another window and spent time wandering around the internet. Every now and then her eye flicked up to JaneCam to see that Jane had rolled onto her side, or back, or had covered her head with her pillow.

It was comforting to see her friend asleep.

The image refreshed.

“The hell is that?”

Something was on the end of Jane’s bed. Was it a cat?

Refreshed and the thing was closer to Jane. Daria had always assumed that Zachary was a myth and hadn’t Taylor run off?

Refreshed and it was on the other side of the bed, but near the foot. If it was a cat, where was its tail?

Refreshed and all she saw was Jane on the bed.

Daria rubbed her eyes. She was tired. That’s all it was, tiredness.

She shut down the computer. She wandered over to her bed. She took off her glasses and put them by her alarm clock, which was set for 7:30. Finally she slid under the covers and watched the clock tick the minutes away.

> From: “The Only Jane”  
>  To: “Mistress Daria” S  
>  ent: Monday 10/2/2000 11:58 PM  
>  Subject: Re: Taylor
> 
> To the best of my knowledge, amiga, Taylor AND Zachary are fine.
> 
> No, neither one has a bobtail.
> 
> You probably saw one of them settling in last night to sleep. They both like to snuggle. Usually with Trent, but sometimes everyone needs a little female companionship.
> 
> Thanks for watching. Tell everyone at your school.
> 
> Jane the Great

Daria frowned as she read the e-mail. How could it have been one of the cats? The thing she saw had no tail. Jane wrote that the Lane cats had tails. The thing that Daria saw had no tail. She was sure of it.

She yawned. The clock in the computer’s corner showed that it was 2:36. She’d climbed in bed at eleven and stayed there until about two, without any sleep, just exhaustion. If she wasn’t sleeping, though, what was the point of staying in bed? She got up and showered, one of the few truly hot showers she’d had since the end of August; it was a huge luxury for any student stuck in the dorms. When she got back, feeling refreshed but still worn out, she turned on her computer and found the e-mail from Jane.

With her left hand, she reached for her brush, and with her right she opened her web browser to JaneCam. Jane slept while Daria brushed any tangles out of her wet hair.

The image refreshed every five seconds and Daria timed her brush strokes to coincide with the shift. She wished that the refresh rate was faster so she could see Jane actually move. She wished there was sound so she could listen to her friend’s breathing. Maybe that would help her to sleep, even if it was while sitting at a crappy desk on a crappy chair in a crappy dorm room.

She lifted the brush after finishing a stroke and raised it up to start another. As the bristles touched her scalp, the brush froze. The thing was back on Jane’s bed. This time, it was near her head.

Calmly, she put the brush on the desk and waited for the image to refresh, hoping that it was all in her head. After counting to five, it refreshed. The thing was still on the bed. This time it sat on its haunch at the foot.

Refresh. The thing was staring at her. It cocked its head just enough so its eyes gleamed yellow in the street light. Two shining yellow beads of horror floating against the black of its body.

Daria stared at the thing as it stared at her. She couldn’t tell if it had short hair or feathers or scales or what. All she could see were the yellow eyes.

The image refreshed and only Jane and the comforter were on the bed.

It was obvious to Daria that the thing only came while Jane slept, so Jane would never see it. She needed someone to back her up. She opened her e-mail and wrote a letter.

> From: “Monsignor Thomas”  
>  To: “Daria”  
>  Sent: Tuesday 10/3/2000 10:18 AM  
>  Subject: Re: Thing on JaneCam
> 
> I haven’t checked it out. Didn’t really want to after what happened last time. I’ll take a look tonight.
> 
> Tom

Daria stayed away from her computer, all computers, the day she knew Tom was going to watch. She didn’t know what she’d do if she saw it again. She spent most of the early morning hours in the 24-hour room at the main library trying to work, but her mind kept drifting back to the thing, to Jane, to Tom.

What if he saw the thing? What would that mean? What if he didn’t see it? Which was worse? What if it was something wrong with her? Had she cracked? Would she have to drop out? Would she be stuck with her family again? This time forever?

Maybe she’d be put somewhere with nice young men in clean white coats where she could sit and smile and twiddle her thumbs and toes. She could live comfortably like that.

> From: “Monsignor Thomas”  
>  To: “Daria”  
>  Sent: Wednesday 10/4/2000 8:26 AM  
>  Subject: Re: Thing on JaneCam
> 
> I kept JaneCam up for a couple of hours last night. Other than a few great shots of Jane in her bra I didn’t see anything remotely interesting.
> 
> Have to ask: are you sleeping better than you were last week?
> 
> If you’re not, you should really go down to the health center and see someone about it.
> 
> My crazy aunt, Millie, once didn’t sleep for a month. Now we call her crazy.
> 
> Tom

The campus medical center was cold, uncomfortable, and disgusting. The floors were large tiles that had been, once upon a time, a shining blue; now, after decades of students walking back and forth across them, they were as brown as they were blue. The chairs were hard, green plastic that was browning at the edges and corners and were stained by the years. Every chair was covered in old splotches of gum that had been around so long there was no need to worry about it sticking to clothes when someone sat on it. And this was the place sick students were supposed to come to get healthy.

“Dara Morganduffer?” said the nurse who just came out of the door.

“Uh,” said Daria, standing, “it’s Dar-ee-uh Morgue-en-door-fer.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever,” said the nurse. “Follow me.”

Daria followed through the door into the back. The back looked just as disgusting as the front, but it was worse. She could hear someone hacking up something somewhere off to the left. She hoped it was a student and not one of the staff.

The nurse led her to a room and told her to sit on the paper covering the fifty-year old bed. She hopped up and concentrated on keeping her legs from swinging.

“So,” said the nurse, “why’re you here?”

“Insomnia.”

“Uh-huh and how long has this been going on?”

“About a week and a half.”

“Any new stress in your life?”

“You mean other than leaving my home, my friend, and my family and coming to a strange city to share a bedroom with a stranger and a bathroom with thirty other strangers all while trying to figure out what I’d like to do with my life and how best to spend my time and hoping I’ll get out of here in four years because it’s costing $30000 a year to be here? Stress like that?”

“Yeah,” said the nurse. “You don’t have to be like that. I’m just asking the questions I have to ask.”

“Sorry,” mumbled Daria.

“Sure. Just wait here. An RN will be with you in a minute.” The nurse started to pull the door shut and said, “If you’re lucky.”

Daria sighed as the nurse as the door clicked shut. Part of her didn’t even believe an RN was coming. There was probably only one for the entire student body.

Twenty minutes of waiting later, she had read all the free pamphlets. The one on the dangers of alcohol ended with possible death. Marijuana also ended with death. The one on caffeine pills was more hopeful; it only ended with hypertension, exhaustion, and stroke. A free condom came with the one on STDs. Yes, it was a fine time to be a student.

The door opened and a pudgy man with a goatee walked into the room. “Are you Ms. Morgendorffer?” he asked, reading off the clipboard in his hands.

“That’s what it says on my ID,” said Daria.

“Great,” he said, leafing through the papers on the clipboard. “I’ll need to see it. You know, just to make sure.” She pulled the ID out of her jacket pocket and handed it over. “Good picture. Kept your eyes open. Don’t look squinched up at all.” He swiped the card through the code reader next to the computer. “You can call me Joel.”

“That’s your name?”

“It’s the name that was on the inside of my underwear this morning. I sure hope it’s mine.”

Daria decided it was better to wait until he started to ask his questions.

After a few minutes of looking at the clipboard and clicking through something on the computer, Joel turned back to her and said, “Insomnia?”

“Yeah,” she answered.

“What’s it like?”

“Huh?”

“I mean, do you just have trouble getting to sleep? Are you just groggy when you get up?”

“I don’t sleep at all.”

“What’s that like?”

“It’s like lying in bed for hours trying not to watch the clock, but feeling every second tick by anyway. It’s like wandering around campus as a ghost who has to concentrate with all its power to interact with the world. It’s like watching some weird creature stalk your best friend late at night and being told it’s a cat, even though it has no tail.”

“Sounds rough,” he said. “18 units, that’s quite a load you’ve got there. You think you’re getting enough exercise?”

“Probably not,” she said.

“Okay.” He started writing on the board. “I’ll be recommending to the MD on duty that she write you a prescription for a mild sedative. Just enough for a couple of weeks. I want you to come set an appointment for two weeks from now on your way out.”

“Alright,” she said, sliding off the bed. “How long until I can pick of the pills?”

“Oh, they’ll be ready tomorrow morning.” Joel handed her ID back. “You can pick them up after biology.”

“Thanks.”

“Yeah,” he said, opening the door, “no problem.”

> From: “Monsignor Thomas”  
>  To: “Daria”  
>  Sent: Wednesday 10/4/2000 10:47 PM  
>  Subject: Sleepy Pills
> 
> Glad you went to see someone. You’ll feel better, soon.
> 
> Tom

4:30 in the morning and Daria was watching JaneCam again.

Jane had been sleeping for hours and nothing had happened. It was all in her head. She was insane. Tired and insane. Paranoid and tired and insane.

The image refreshed and the thing was on Jane’s bed again.

“Oh, shit.” Two. Three. Four. Five.

It was right in front of the camera. It had sharp teeth and it looked it was only covered in a smooth black skin. The eyes were glowing yellow in the light again. It was grinning at her.

Except, Daria remembered, animals don’t grin. Animals only show their teeth as a threat. Only people grin. And if she saw a person grinning like that, she’d be scared that they were going to hurt her.

Refreshed and it was back on Jane’s bed.

Daria twisted and fumbled for the phone she shared with Judy. She picked up the receiver and punched in the number to Jane’s house. The phone beeped then went dead.

“Shit,” she said, hanging up. She forgot to dial her long distance code. The phone wouldn’t let her call without it.

She lifted the phone, took a deep breath, and dialed again, this time remembering to put in her code first. The phone rang and rang and rang until it hung itself up. No freakin’ answer and the whole time, the thing was on Jane’s bed and looked like it was poking at her and grabbing her hair.

Daria grabbed the phone again and dialed again.

This time it only rang four times before someone picked up.

“'Lo,” said a guy’s tired voice.

“Tom,” she said.

“Wha’?”

“I need Tom Sloane. Now.”

She heard muffled voices.

“Yeah?” Finally, Tom’s voice.

“Tom? It’s Daria.”

“'Kay.”

“Tom, I’m coming to Newtown and you’re taking me to Lawndale, tonight.”

“Wha’?”

“Jane’s in trouble, Tom. I’m coming to Newtown. I’ll be at the train station as soon as I can. If you won’t come and get me, I’ll take a taxi to Bromwell and scream my head off until you come out and take me to Lawndale.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Sure. Call me from the station.”

She hung up the phone then grabbed her backpack from the floor. She dumped everything onto the bed and stuffed some clothes in it. She crammed her feet in her boots, grabbed her keys and ran out the door.

Three hours later, she was standing outside the train station in Newtown waiting for Tom, who showed up fifteen minutes after she called. They were on their way to Lawndale.

Tom did the right thing and didn’t ask any questions. He just sped down the highway, only stopping for gas once when the crossed into New Jersey.

It took five excruciating hours to get from Newtown to Lawndale. Shorter than ten hours by train from Boston on down, but still much longer than Daria would have liked. When they arrived at Jane’s house, it was nearly 1:30 in the afternoon.

Daria jumped out of the car and ran up to the house. She threw open the front door and flew up the stairs. “JANE!” she yelled as she ran. “JANE! JANE!”

Trent stumbled out of his room. “Wha’s goin’ on?”

“JANE!” she yelled again as she ran past Trent to Jane’s room. She opened the door. “Jane? Jane…”

She looked around the room. Jane wasn’t there. “JANE!” The room was empty.

Trent and Tom arrived at the door way.

“She’s probably at work,” Trent said, yawning.

“Daria,” said Tom, “it’s the afternoon. She’s just out.”

Daria threw back the comforter on Jane’s bed. Chunks of raven black hair covered the sheet shining wet in the afternoon light. Some chunks had pieces of scalp attached. She fell to her knees at the edge of the bed and pulled the hair toward her.

She whispered, “Jane?”

**Author's Note:**

> This was written back in 2010 as a Write-Off Challenge over at thepaperpusher.net.
> 
> The prompt was: "One word: JaneCam. Something happens on JaneCam and someone sees it. Doesn't have to be during Psycho Therapy, (though if not, Jane will have to get a new camera or have not cut the cord on that one), as long as something happens on JaneCam, and somebody's watching. Have fun!"


End file.
